


The Gift of Subtlety

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I'm aware it's almost Christmas, M/M, Valentine's Day, but here's a valentine fic anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Just your good old "single person hates Valentine's Day" trope.





	1. Chapter 1

It only took until barely noon before Madara decided that if he had to watch another couple be extra lovey-dovey with each other today he was going to defenestrate someone. He might have to climb up a few flights of stairs to do it but at this point he figured the effort would be worth it.

Valentine’s Day was the bane of single people everywhere and this would mark the fourth time in a row that he hadn’t procured a date for the ‘most romantic day of the year’. Madara scowled at the couple enjoying their lunch break together, sitting so close their noses were almost touching while they shared a dish of ice cream. He hoped they both got brain freeze for being so gross in public. Could they not wait until they were behind closed doors to display that kind of disgusting behavior?

Alright so his bad mood might have had just a little bit to do with his current streak of bad luck in the romance department. He was annoyed, so sue him. It was all really strange, though, and he was starting to think the universe had actually turned against him for whatever reason. There could be no other explanation for three cancelled dates in a row, one blind date not even showing up, and that one really hot coworker he’d been flirting with suddenly requesting a department transfer. Hashirama and Izuna both said he wasn’t giving off any weird vibes lately and that he looked no different than normal; other than that he had no clue what it could be.

Technically he was supposed to be on break at the moment but the couple making kissy faces over their ice cream had put him off his appetite, sending him right back in to the building he’d just walked out of. He paid no mind to the people he passed in the hallway as he stomped back to his office and slumped down in to his very expensive desk chair.

Usually when he was grumpy he would invade Hashirama’s house after work and engage in one of two activities to cheer himself up. Either he talked Hashirama in to sitting on the back porch and having a couple beers together or he went and started an argument with his friend’s younger brother. Tobirama worked in the same office as him so it wasn’t all that hard to find something to argue about and their personalities clashed so easily that it was never difficult to get the younger man riled up. Today, however, he happened to know that Hashirama would be out on an extra sappy date with his fiancé, thereby removing one of his feel-better options. And with his friend out of the house he had no excuse to go over and pick a fight with Tobirama, so that one was out too.

As though the very thought of him had summoned his presence, Tobirama strode in to the office only a couple of minutes later bearing two foam cups. Madara gave him a suspicious look when one of them was deposited on his desk without so much as a snarky comment.

“What’s that for?” he demanded shortly. The other man snorted.

“I saw the way you were stomping through the halls. We’ve got that meeting with all the big-wigs later and I don’t need you in a bad mood. Thought this might calm you down some.” Tobirama sipped his own drink and raised an eyebrow at him over the rim. Madara snorted.

“How altruistic of you,” he grumbled. “How do you even know the way I take my coffee?”

“Who says that’s coffee? Perhaps I’ve finally decided to poison you and free myself of so much stress.”

Despite himself, Madara laughed. It was almost a running joke between them to threaten the other with death in some manner. Nothing could have convinced him more that whatever was in that cup was safe for him to drink. Still, that didn’t mean he had to be obvious about his gratitude. He fingered the rim of the cup, wiping condensation off the top and trying to decipher the barista’s scrawl on top.

“So, let me take a wild guess about what’s got you in such a snit today.” When he looked up Tobirama was smirking.

“Just shut up,” he snarled. His coworker chose not to heed the warning.

“I’m going to take a stab and say it’s because it’s Valentine’s Day and _someone_ hasn’t managed to get a date.” The smirk grew vicious. “Am I right?”

“Fuck off, Senju. I happen to know you haven’t got a date either, since your brother was whining about you being all alone and sad or some crap.”

Tobirama didn’t really look all that hurt by his comeback. In fact, he looked a little smug about something. Madara debated whether or not to press so he could figure out what the something was. He had just been thinking about how much better he would feel if he could pick a fight with this man but he was also still at work where such behavior would be inappropriate. The two of them had a tendency to get right in to each other’s faces and their fights were always heated – and loud.

Eventually Madara decided that getting fired would ultimately ruin his mood more than a good fight would repair it. He settled for a grumpy huff and a roll of his eyes while Tobirama turned and walked his smug look towards the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back over one shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s, Uchiha,” he said in an almost-mocking tone. “Enjoy your gift.”

“Gift,” Madara grumbled to himself as Tobirama hurried away and the door swung shut behind him. “What gift? All he did was bring me coffee.”

Now alone and free of any judging eyes, he finally picked up the cup and brought it up to his lips, blowing through the opening before taking a cautious first sip. The sweetness that flooded his tongue was entirely unexpected and nearly made him choke. For fuck’s sake that little bastard hadn’t been joking; this wasn’t coffee at all!

Madara froze as it registered what it was he was actually drinking and what it might imply. What he reading too much in to this? It was a strange drink choice to bring a grown man in the middle of the day and on _today_ of all days…

Leaning back in his chair with a contemplative expression, Madara took another sip of his hot cocoa and wondered if Tobirama had given chocolate to anyone else this year. Perhaps he didn’t need Hashirama as an excuse to go over to their home after all. If he did, he rather doubted it was an argument that Tobirama was hoping for.


	2. The Reward For Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd be adding to this fic but it was Valentine's Day so the timing was perfect! ^^

He didn’t so much open the door as he did burst through it with all the subtlety of an angry gorilla. Not truly sure whether he was actually welcome here or not, Madara figured that barging in and startling the occupant of the home would at least detract from the awkwardness of the situation if he wasn’t. It really wasn’t his style to demurely arrive places anyway.

Unfortunately for his dramatic inclinations, Tobirama didn’t really react all that much beyond turning to blink at him over one shoulder in an unsurprising manner.

“Could you set the table?” he asked. Madara scowled.

“For what?”

“Dinner, of course. You’re right on time.”

Before Tobirama turned back to the stove Madara just barely caught the smirk on his face and it deepened his scowl even as an odd sort of warmth bloomed in his chest. Apparently he was expected, which he supposed was a good thing. That meant he hadn’t read the other man wrong and there was a good chance that this evening would go just the way he hoped it would. On the other hand he detested being so predictable that Tobirama could guess when he would show up and have dinner ready to be served at just the right time.

Stomping to show his conflicted feelings about the situation, he made his way over to the cupboards and pulled out dishes to set the table as he had been bidden. Tobirama set out a large dish of stir fry and another of perfectly cooked rice over which to pour it, placing both in the clear space between them before slipping in to the chair directly across from his guest. At the simple wave of his hand Madara snatched up the oversized spoon sticking out of the rice and served himself a generous portion.

For the most part dinner was quiet. Madara _hoped_ he knew what was going on here but he didn’t have 100% confirmation and, as a man who worked with numbers for a living, he wasn’t going to take any chances until he was certain that the odds were in his favor. There was a chance that Tobirama knew what he assumed the hot chocolate had meant and predicted that he would show up, yet had no plans to fulfil those assumptions. There was also a chance that he had taken note of Madara’s bad mood and thought he was only here to pick a fight as he usually did on those days. Really, whatever was going on inside his head was as much a mystery as it usually was.

When they did finally did pick up a thread of conversation it was about work, at first. Neither of them were very happy with the new project their bosses had dumped on their team in the meeting earlier and complaining, either to or at each other, came more naturally for both of them than any other form of communication.

Madara had only just started to grow complacent when he felt something brush up against his ankle. He narrowed his eyes but Tobirama didn’t even pause in his sentence, seemingly unaware of the fact that he had bumped up against his guest while stretched out those long legs of his. Only a moment after shaking his suspicions away he felt a second touch brushing up against his ankle and this time the contact lingered. Sock-clad toes traced a line from the side of his ankle down to the arch of his foot before pulling away unhurriedly, leaving him gaping at the man across from him who had the gall to simply keep speaking as though nothing were happening.

Though his first instinct was to demand to know what the other’s game was, Madara managed to keep his silence for the moment. When Tobirama asked him to weigh in on the issue they were supposed to be conversing about he managed to get three full sentences out without his voice cracking as he felt a gentle touch brush against the back of his calf and slowly glide upwards. His bastard of a companion gave zero indication he was even aware of what his foot was doing, face impassive and mildly interested as he listened to Madara’s opinion on…something.

Just as he began to get used to the touches Madara was left reeling yet again when Tobirama suddenly retrieved his foot and stood up to bring both of their dishes over to the sink.

“Feel like watching a movie?”

Madara frowned at the rapid change in direction but scrambled to go with it and not seem as confused as he felt.

“I guess. If you have anything good.”

“Not really, only whatever monstrosities Hashirama buys at the gas station. Your choices are bad horror or bad romcoms.”

“Bad horror it is then. I’m not watching any stupid romantic comedy. Especially not with _you_.”

A wince escaped his control but luckily Tobirama wasn’t looking at him right then. He couldn’t help his natural acerbic nature, not even when he was trying to pick up on whether or not his companion was flirting with him. It was to his benefit that Tobirama appeared to be so used to it that such comments didn’t even make him blink.

Casting a wary eye at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and feeling a little strange for not washing them, Madara followed the other in to the living room and took a peek at what titles were available for them to watch. It turned out that Tobirama was right; these were all absolute monstrosities. They were just the kind of terrible movie that someone like Hashirama adored and everyone else with actual functioning brain cells tried to forget existed. Was his companion trying to give him a hint? Perhaps they were watching movies this terrible instead of watching Netflix because the point was that they wouldn’t really need to pay attention to the screen.

Only one way to find out. Madara chose a title at random and hoped that, if he did end up having to sit through it, he wouldn’t want to claw his eyes out by the end. Tobirama waved him over to the couch and Madara sank down on one end, tilting his head to admire the younger man’s ass at a better angle as he entered the DVD in to its player.

He wasn’t sure where he was expecting Tobirama to sit once he had the television all set up but flopping down right next to him and casually leaning in to his side certainly wouldn’t have been his prediction. Tension left him stiff and awkward as the other man practically cuddled up to him, folding both of his legs up on to the couch and out of the way. Although Tobirama didn’t drop his head down on to the shoulder within convenient reach, he did drop it back against the cushions behind them and let it tilt slightly in Madara’s direction.

Madara began to wonder if he hadn’t been reading the signs correctly all along and Tobirama was simply trying to be progressively more obvious when his target didn’t seem to be taking the hint. Gathering his courage, keeping his eyes glued to the opening credits flashing across the screen, he barely gave himself a chance to hesitate before wriggling his arm out from underneath Tobirama’s weight and instead draping it around the younger man’s form. In return he received a pleased hum and a warm body pressing even closer in to his own. What he did not get was Tobirama’s full attention.

It took ten minutes of pouting and five more of staring at the screen in open disbelief that a film this bad had actually been produced on DVD before it seemed like he was finally about to get the answers he had been looking for since he arrived at the Senju household. Between the three protagonists arriving at a cabin in the woods in which they would all obviously meet with untimely deaths and a ham-fisted scene which declared two of the characters as illicit lovers, Tobirama finally looked away from the screen to blink slowly at his guest. Night had long fallen outside and neither of them had bothered to turn on any lights, leaving the television as their only source of illumination. The colors and shadows jumping across his face gave him a strange, otherworldly look.

“Hopefully you weren’t planning on going home early,” he murmured in a low voice. Madara swallow twice before answering, instinctively lowering his own voice to match.

“No, I don’t have to be at the office until noon tomorrow; I can stay as late as I like.”

“Excellent!” Tobirama beamed suddenly, an expression scarily reminiscent of his brother. “Then you can stay and watch another movie after this one. My choice next.”

Just like that he suddenly seemed to be wholly absorbed with the movie again. Madara gaped, completely speechless.

“Another…movie?” he echoed, barely even aware that he was speaking out loud. Not that it mattered as his words went completely ignored by the other man.

Only a minute ago he’d been all but positive that he knew what was going on but now he was more confused than ever. If Tobirama had been expecting him to come here and had made him dinner, why hadn’t he actually addressed the _reason_ he had come here? Was he just lonely and happy for company? Had _he_ in fact been the one to misread things and come to the conclusion that Madara had come here as a friend looking to spend time together platonically?

Not that Madara had anything against being friends with people or Tobirama in particular. It was just that friendship wasn’t exactly all he was hoping for between them. Should that turn out to be all that Tobirama wanted from him he would honor that and take what he could get but still, he did hope for more.

The rest of the movie turned out to be as terrible as the beginning promised. When Tobirama asked for his help picking a second one he tossed a nearby pen and said to settle for whichever movie he hit with it. Such was his luck that he managed to hit the case of a truly horrible romcom that he remembered seeing advertisements for two summers back. He hadn’t wanted to see it then and he cringed at the idea of watching it now. Tobirama, on the other hand, seemed almost gleeful at the idea of making him watch something he so obviously did not want to sit through.

“Really?” Madara weakly protested as Tobirama switched out the DVDs.

“I will have you know that this is Anija’s favorite movie,” his companion shot back. Madara groaned.

“Now I’m twice as worried. That is _not_ a glowing recommendation. Your brother wouldn’t know taste if it stripped off and danced naked in front of him.”

“While I would normally jump to his defense on principal, I cannot in good conscience deny that claim.” Tobirama grinned as he returned to the couch and immediately plastered himself back up against Madara’s side, sighing in contentment when Madara experimentally wrapped his arm around the other as he had before.

“But you’re still going to make me watch it?” he drawled.

Tobirama’s only answer was a deep chuckle and a bit more weight to keep them pressed together.

As one might expect of a romcom holding the lackluster honor of being Hashirama’s favorite movie, the film was bad enough that instead of being touching it only ended up being funny. Ten minutes in Madara began a game of mimicking the actor’s lines, repeating them back as overdramatically as he possibly could. When Tobirama responded back with the other lead actor’s lines he nearly choked on his own laughter.

During the fun Madara couldn’t help but notice the way Tobirama kept checking the time, red eyes flickering over to the clock on the wall every five or ten minutes. It was like he was waiting for something, though Madara had no idea what that something could be. Since it didn’t really detract from their game, however, he opted to simply keep quiet and see for himself if the other had any more surprises waiting up his sleeves.

“Some of these lines are almost physically painful,” he murmured eventually, watching the male lead make his declaration of love in the rain. Tobirama huffed out a laugh.

“Painful? How dare you. It’s _romantic_.”

“If I didn’t hear the sarcasm in your voice just now I would have you booked for a psychological evaluation.”

His companion snorted. “Anija cries every time he watches this part. I know because he always makes me watch it with him; I think I have this entire movie memorized even though that is brain space which could have been put to much better use.” Madara shuddered in horror.

“Personally I would rather eat my own shoes than be forced to watch this trash more than once,” he declared. Then he watched curiously as Tobirama checked the clock yet again before turning to face him with a slightly triumphant light hovering about his expression.

“Are you sure?” the younger man asked. “Maybe you’re just not hearing the lines right. Obviously they must have _some_ merit if they pull my brother in so much.”

“Your brother’s commendation says enough on its own.”

“I’ll thank you to go fuck yourself.”

Madara snorted so hard it nearly hurt. All the times he had come here and goaded Tobirama in to an argument just to see that same level of sass and it turns out he could have gotten the same results with just a friendly conversation. Nothing got to him quite like this man’s vitriol, although he had barely even allowed himself to acknowledge that until earlier today.

Trying not to draw attention to the embarrassing noise he’d just made, Madara affected an arrogant look. “And I’ll thank you to do the same. It’s a terrible movie and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“I think you just need to listen to the words differently,” Tobirama teased in a mock serious voice.

“Different how, exaclty?”

He wasn’t prepared for the younger man to turn in his loose embrace and lean forward until they were nearly nose to nose, his mouth stretched to one side in a leer which turned Madara’s knees to water even though he was already seated. Of all the times they had clashed before, he’d never had that particular look directed at him. It was a lot more potent than he expected.

Clearing his throat, Tobirama didn’t so much as glance at the screen as he began to speak alongside the male lead. It was the same over-the-top drivel and yet in his voice the words had so much more impact – possibly because of the hand slowly gliding its way up Madara’s torso as he spoke.

“You hound my every thought and the days that we are apart are like agony,” he quoted, voice rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “I knew you were the one for me from the very first time we spoke. Your words will forever be written on my heart.” Madara cleared his throat a little awkwardly, interjecting before he allowed himself to get too caught up in a moment he wasn’t sure whether the other was taking seriously or not.

“If I remember correctly, the first words I said to you were ‘hey asshole, you’re in my way’.”

“Correct.” Tobirama leaned closer until they were breathing the same air, less than an inch apart. “Doesn’t get much more romantic than that, does it?”

“You’re still an asshole,” Madara pointed out.

“And you love it.”

He didn’t really have a rebuttal for that since it was true but that wasn’t why he failed to answer. As soon as those words left his lips Tobirama pressed their mouths together in a hard first kiss, not even pretending to be gentle as he took what he wanted.

Madara groaned and kissed back, one hand coming up to grip the front of Tobirama’s shirt and pull him even closer. A second groan escaped him as Tobirama slowly pushed him sideways and crawled up between his legs to crush their bodies against each other. His legs parted naturally to let the younger’s body settle between his thighs, his free hand wrapping around to clutch at the strong shoulders he had already been wrapped around all night already.

Exploratory fingers trailed down the center of his chest, popping the buttons on his shirts even as Tobirama continued to distract him with hot kisses. His back arched at the first skin to skin contact and whatever sound he might have made was lost to the tongue that swept between his lips, delving inside to brush across his own. All thoughts about terrible movies were forgotten immediately along with any doubts that Tobirama wanted the same things he did. Shoving him down on the couch and spontaneously making out with him was a pretty obvious sign, even by his standards.

As was typical between them no matter what they were doing, things escalated rather quickly. One moment they were doing nothing but kissing, bodies writhing and fingers grasping, and then the next they were half out of their clothing and a bottle of lube had been produced seemingly from thin air. Madara eyed it with a breathless sort of amusement.

“You always carry lube around with you just in case you can seduce your guests?” he asked. Tobirama nipped at his throat and pulled an involuntary gasp from him before answering.

“Don’t ask,” he rumbled. “It’ll ruin the moment.”

Madara meant to ask something else anyway but he was distracted by the hands dipping underneath his waistband and then he found himself busy lifting his hips so that the remains of his clothing could be pulled away, leaving him entirely naked but for the socks he didn’t have the concentration to remove. Taking advantage of his distraction, Tobirama kept him further off balance by leaning down and sinking sharp teeth in to the skin of his shoulder. It should have hurt yet Madara felt his mouth gaping open while sparks of pleasure ran up and down his spine.

The rush of sensation was enough to keep him from noticing what Tobirama’s hands were doing until he felt slick fingers tracing his entrance, spreading cool gel around the area and teasing him with light pressure. A part of him wanted to protest that his partner hadn’t even taken the time to remove his own pants but the words were halted yet again when the first finger pressed inside, reducing them to a garbled collection of disconnected consonants. He could vividly recall the last time he’d gotten laid and he hadn’t been half this turned on even after he’d been fully stretched. Embarrassed heat rose to his face as he felt his cock bobbing rock hard above his belly, begging for attention already.

He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed at Tobirama for ignoring such an obvious invitation, choosing instead to focus on spreading him open with two and then three fingers, mouth working to leave as many marks on his torso as possible. By the time he was fully stretched Madara was littered with teeth imprints, along with a dark hickey or two, and his partner had discovered just how sensitive his nipples really were. He also had entirely run out of oxygen causing every breath he drew to come as a gasp, body wracked with pleasure from so many different points at once that he was having trouble deciphering up from down. 

When the fingers inside of him finally slid out and Tobirama smirked down at him while opening his jeans, Madara couldn’t help but be amazed at the turn his evening had taken. Had he really been wondering just a few hours before whether Tobirama had any romantic intentions behind his offer of hot chocolate? Were they really about to fuck for the first time on his best friend’s living room couch?

A small, slightly mortifying squeak slipped out when Tobirama tucked both hands under his legs and lifted them, spreading him open an displaying his stretched hole for greedy red eyes to devour. Madara barely had time to lament the fact that he seemed to be making an awful lots of noise while Tobirama remained frustratingly silent. The press of a thick cock to where he desperately wanted it had his head falling back and his lips parting around a shout; his partner certainly wasn’t wasting any time on being gentle. Just the way he liked it.

While his noises didn’t decrease any, Madara’s awareness of them did. As soon as Tobirama had bottomed out inside him and pulled away to take up a punishing rhythm he was lost, the world around him shrinking until nothing existed but the sensation of being filled over and over and the hands which seared his skin wherever they touched. He barely even noticed his own hands clutching at Tobirama’s body, scratching blunt nails down his back when he bent low enough to reach and clutching tightly to his biceps when he sat up for a better angle. The first impact against his prostate narrowed his perception even further, leaving him a babbling mess of sensation with only one shining goal.

“Fuck don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop!” a vaguely familiar voice babbled. It sounded like his own but he couldn’t remember speaking.

Unable to stop himself, Madara finally let go of Tobirama only to reach between them and take himself in hand, so close to nirvana he could almost taste it and frantic to fall over that shining edge. The moment he began to pump himself with a tight grip he heard Tobirama’s distinct voice growl in his ear, the first sound he’d heard from the man since their clothes had come off, and just knowing that his partner found the image of him jerking himself to be attractive was enough to send his brain in to overdrive. His orgasm hit him even faster than he expected, tensing every muscle in his body and arching his back. The feeling was almost too intense, to the point where he almost felt like he would fly apart if not for the warm body that shuddered and went still above him, the weight pressing down on to him the only thing keeping him together.

A long drawn out moan quietly slithered from between Tobirama’s lips as he emptied himself within Madara’s hole and by the shaking of his arms it seemed he was having sudden difficulties holding himself upright. Madara grinned tiredly as he watched the younger man’s struggles from between hooded eyes. He consoled his own sudden lethargy with the knowledge that at least he wasn’t the only one who felt steamrolled by what just happened.

“You were planning that the whole time weren’t you?” he accused, breathlessness taking all the sting out of his words.

“Prove it,” Tobirama shot back. Madara could feel the other man grinning against the damp skin of his neck.

“Dickhead.”

“Moron.”

“Tight-ass.”

“No, that’s you apparently.”

Madara huffed out a reluctant laugh and tried to make it sound like indignation. “You’re the one who was hiding lube in his back pocket. Seems a little suspicious to me.” He wasn’t prepared for Tobirama to hesitate and shift in a guilty manner.

“Not my lube, actually.”

The implication of who else’s it could be or why it might be there were enough to make him shudder again, although this time it was with horrified disgust, and he was glad that Tobirama hadn’t answered him before. Knowing that they were borrowing Hashirama’s lube would definitely have ruined the moment. His frown quickly faded once more, however, and he hummed as the smile against his neck turned in to lingering kisses.

“Stay the night?” Tobirama offered, making an obvious effort to sound casual.

“Oh yes, I’m sure your brother would be thrilled to come home and find me here.”

“Believe me, Anija is well aware you’re here.” The stupid bastard had the nerve to chuckle at Madara mortified whine. “If you’re that worried about it we can just fall asleep right here. It won’t even cross his mind that I fucked you silly if it looks like we just innocently fell asleep watching movies.”

Growling to cover the blush that was trying to paint his cheekbones, Madara squirmed around to free himself from Tobirama’s continued affections and looked around to figure out where his shirt had gone.

“Hmph. See if I care. He can think whatever he likes and I _don’t_ care!”

Rather than answer that obvious lie Tobirama only reached down to the floor and handed him the shirt he was straining to reach. Then he sat up and reached for the tissues before slowly separating their bodies with a faint grimace for the stickiness between them. Neither of them said much as they set about cleaning themselves up and pulling their clothes back on, although they did trade frequent glances and a number of gratified smirks.

Tobirama got up for a few moments to throw out the tissues they had soiled and pop in another random movie for background noise, then he flopped back down on the couch again and wrestled Madara backwards until the older man deigned to hold him in a vaguely cuddle-like position.

“See? Completely innocent.”

“You haven’t been innocent since before you hit puberty you foul-mouth excuse for a pretty boy.”

“Call me pretty boy again and see if I still suck your dick under your desk tomorrow.”

“Wha-! You-! That is _not_ work appropriate behavior!”

Tobirama buried his face in the couch cushions to muffle his mocking laughter while Madara choked and spit out a few more disconnected syllables, muttering to himself about attractive asshole coworkers. Madara gave some thought to pushing his partner off on to the floor but he was warm and comfortable now. No point in disturbing himself just for a bit of petty satisfaction.

Alright so that actually sounded very like him but the point still stood.

“Even if you were actually serious,” he grumbled eventually, “the work day would probably end before you ever got around to it. It only took you two whole movies just to kiss me.” Tobirama lifted his face from the cushions to rebut him haughtily.

“I absolutely refuse the idea of our first kiss being on Valentine’s Day and it is hardly my fault that it took nearly two full movies to make it past midnight.”

“You…were waiting until it was no longer Valentine’s Day?”

“Much too cliché.”

Madara breathed in deeply, held it, and let it back out slowly. He reminded himself again that if he shoved Tobirama off the couch then he would leave himself cold and without anyone to hold as he fell asleep. Deciding it was too much trouble to answer, he simply buried his nose in the back of his partner’s neck and snuffled to make him squirm a little. Anything he had to say would likely start a fight anyway and while he did find a sick sort of enjoyment in their fights he didn’t feel like getting in to one right then.

Once they had both settled down at last and closed their eyes, the sounds on the television bleating whatever forgotten terrible movie they weren’t paying attention to lulled them both to sleep surprisingly fast.  With the heat turned up the house was warm enough that they didn’t need a blanket so long as they stayed cuddled up close to each other.

Before drifting off, Madara’s final thought was to start plotting revenge. He supposed most sane people wouldn’t need a revenge plan after an impromptu celebration of Valentine’s Day such as this one, especially after spending a good part of the day thinking they were alone and would stay that way. But then, most people weren’t Madara and Tobirama. He liked to think their relationship was a bit unique – that was what kept him coming back after all – and being made to wait until past midnight just for a first kiss most definitely required a plan for revenge in his mind.

He fell asleep with a beatific smile on his face. When Hashirama found them the next morning and told him they both looked so happy together, Madara only chuckled darkly. Happy together indeed.


End file.
